


Same Old Slippers

by Princess of Geeks (Princess)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: AU, Cabin Fic, Episode Related, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-13
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess/pseuds/Princess%20of%20Geeks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fanfic sequel to the futurefic AU "Not Us" by Paian, a 'verse where George Hammond becomes President and Jack remains as commander of the SGC until his retirement. Also in this verse, the clone of Jack from "Fragile Balance" has acquired a companion -- a clone of Daniel Jackson. But this story is about the two original models.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Same Old Slippers

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Not Us](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25655) by [Paian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paian/pseuds/Paian). 



_same old slippers  
same old rice  
same old glimpse   
of Paradise_

\-- Rumi

^^^^

Jack had been relaxing at the Minnesota house for two weeks when Daniel got there.

He'd sold the Colorado Springs house, with Daniel's blessing, because the idea was, they'd look for a place or some land, out of town, to buy together; preferably some property out in Teller County. Something with a trout stream. In the future Daniel wouldn't be off world as much, and his commute time wouldn't be an issue either. The details of Daniel's switchover from SG-1 to an on-world position under Carter, exact job description and title to be announced, would soon be accomplished, and while Jack looked at land and Daniel changed jobs, Jack would quietly be staying at Daniel's condo.

These plans had been communicated by what Carter used to describe, in the field, as "You know -- their telepathy."

( Really, this was how it had gone: A phone call, Jack's house phone to Daniel's cell.

_"Yes?"_

"Thinking, something out of town. Build again."

"You need your own personal trout stream, huh?"

"Why not?"

"Why not…. I thought you were more attached than that, to the house in town."

"Not if you're not."

"No, it's your… Um… Whatever. Really."

"Okay then.")

Despite this unremarkable resolution of something so momentous, the two of them had, purposefully, stayed apart since Jack's retirement party, which had followed hard on the heels of Carter's party on the occasion of her promotion to brigadier general and appointment as SGC commander.

Immediately after all the festivities, Daniel had been called to Washington for budget negotiations, and Jack had closed the sale of the Colorado Springs house, moved a bit of stuff into Daniel's place and much more stuff into storage, and then headed off for Minnesota.

He'd driven the whole way. Usually he chartered a Cessna and flew to Hibbing, or, if he was especially tired, had himself flown. But this time he drove. He wanted to think, and there was nothing like watching the yellow lines spool away under your wheels for letting you think. Unless it was sitting by water, watching the wind push at your line and send ripples toward the shore. As soon as he got to the lake cabin, he continued his thinking process via the fishing-line method.

He walked in the woods. He fished some more, and fried what he caught, and ate it. And he cooked ahead and froze what he cooked. He spent way too much time in front of the wine rack at the little inadequate liquor store in town, pondering what he could get in the way of an appropriate red. He dined at Judy's Barbecue and caught up on the local gossip. He did some laundry. Cleaned out a closet. Fished some more.

When he came back from his second grocery trip for perishables, and saw the rented sedan sitting at the corner of the front porch, his pulse jumped, then settled at the faster rhythm. He slid his truck into park, and turned the key to "off," and sat there, looking at Daniel's car.

That one astonishing afternoon in his old house, that winter day when he'd learned what the clones had made of their new lives, was almost five months in the past. But the memory of touching Daniel then was sharp and clear and warm. It engulfed him as he sat there in the cab of his Ford. Daniel's mouth, Daniel's hands. Daniel's skin against his. Daniel, making love to him. Fusing with him.

Jack puffed out his breath. He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he got out of the truck and grabbed some of the groceries off the jumpseat floor, and walked up to the house, four heavy plastic sacks swinging from his fists.

Daniel opened the door before Jack had set his foot on the top step of the porch, and pushed open the screen for him.

"Are there more groceries?" Daniel spoke quietly, like he was making an effort not to disturb the other patrons in the library. Jack was conscious of the way his familiar voice expanded out into the warm afternoon air, expanded and dissipated into the dreaming silence of the forest all around them. He was used to hearing Daniel talk indoors, not outdoors, he realized. It had been too long since they were offworld together, when he would often hear Daniel speak into the sky, or the woods. Jack stood still, looking at Daniel standing there in the doorway, barefoot, wearing jeans and an ancient UC-Berkeley T-shirt, his glasses on his forehead, holding open the wooden screen.

"Yeah, just a couple more sacks," Jack said.

Daniel brushed past him. Jack went through the living room and lifted the groceries onto the kitchen table and started putting things away. Sliced deli meat for sandwiches. A package of boneless chicken breasts. Four ribeyes. Milk. His heart was pounding. He smelled coffee, and glanced at the coffeemaker. Daniel had put on a fresh pot and drunk one cup, so far, it looked like. He glanced back, through the kitchen arch into the main room. There were books on the sofa and legal pads on the low table.

He put away the milk and the steak. He wondered if a quart of half-and-half would be enough. Daniel was inconsistent in his use of cream in his coffee. Sometimes he took sugar, sometimes he preferred latte, sometimes he just drank it bitter and black. Maybe he should have gotten two quarts. He heard Daniel's feet on the steps, heard him kick the front door closed. He didn't turn. Daniel moved around and behind him, gently opening and closing cupboards.

Jack turned from putting the butter into the refrigerator to see Daniel kneeling, wadding up plastic sacks and stuffing them in the bin under the sink. Jack waited until Daniel met his eyes, and then Jack turned fully to him and straightened, and held out his arms.

Daniel looked at him for a moment, and pushed his glasses back into place, and then he started to smile. It was a sweet, slightly bemused smile. It looked like it belonged to a younger Daniel, a different Daniel. He bit his lower lip. Then he walked slowly to Jack, and into the hug Jack was offering.

Jack folded him tight. He put his cheek against Daniel's T-shirt, his nose in Daniel's neck, and just stood there, holding him and smelling him. The T-shirt was washed thin, and the heat from Daniel's skin flooded through it, soaking into Jack like sunshine. Daniel's collar bone was sharp. No extra weight on him this year. Jack shifted his feet and pressed closer. This was really hard to believe. Daniel's arms were tight around him. Jack stood there for a couple of minutes, just breathing, tasting laundry soap and a hint of coffee. Daniel seemed very willing to simply stand there and hug. He leaned his head against Jack's. When Jack finally let go and started to move away, feeling that if this went on, he might soon need a Kleenex, and at the very least might need to clear his throat, Daniel wouldn't let him. Daniel's hands came up around his jaw, and Daniel pulled him in again and kissed him. For the first time.

Daniel kissed like he was savoring Jack. Like Jack's lips were a new exotic dish, and Daniel wanted to taste it, linger over it. He closed his eyes before he touched Jack's lips with his, and he tilted his head that little perfect bit to one side to get his glasses out of the way. His lips were extravagantly soft, almost too soft. He tasted of black coffee.

Jack hadn't quite let go of Daniel's waist when the kiss began, and his arms froze for a moment. He lost all track of where his hands were and what they were feeling, what his feet were doing; he lost track of everything but Daniel's tender mouth against his. He was keyed up, as he'd been since he'd caught sight of the car, with that flight-or-fight excitement that made everything he focused on seem more intense. And all that intensity was consumed in Daniel's kiss. Jack would have predicted, when he let himself think about it, that a kiss from Daniel would be intense under any circumstances. The kind of kiss that could awaken sleeping princesses; hell -- that could wake the dead. It was, indeed, that kind of kiss.

After the momentary surprise, reality organized itself again, with their mouths at its center. Daniel was taut in his arms, also focused on their mouths, just tasting. Jack tried to breathe. He got his arms in motion again, and held Daniel tight around the waist with one and slipped the other hand up, over the smooth muscle of chest and shoulder, to rest against Daniel's neck. He let his eyes fall closed.

They'd never kissed before. And now they were. That day in the Springs, Daniel had put his mouth on Jack's dick, and they'd lain naked together. They'd had sex twice, but this kiss, today, was a first that seemed just as intimate, just as important to Jack. Daniel apparently wanted to remember it, the way he was taking his time, and Jack had to agree that it was a worthwhile moment to bookmark.

Daniel's lips were slightly parted, and he, like Jack, had shaved that morning, and noticing that made Jack smile against Daniel's mouth. Feeling the smile made Daniel smile, too -- his lips going from plush to tight for a moment or two. Jack let the smile fade and went back to enjoying the patient savoring. His awareness gradually widening again, Jack noticed how much he was loving the sure, firm way Daniel was cradling his head. Daniel's hands were sweaty, but his fingertips were chilled, as if this was extremely exciting and perhaps a little scary.

Like, you know -- meaning-of-life stuff.

Jack tried to breathe evenly through his nose, because he was pretty sure he could get lightheaded from this. Daniel's lips continued to move against his, gently, softly, now parted a little, now pursed. Jack just stood there and gently kissed him back, and let Daniel manage this however he wanted to. Jack was feeling it all, now, -- the smooth chin, the warmth of Daniel's belly against his through the thin double layer of cotton, the way their belt buckles had snagged as they shifted their weight, the fact that they were both getting hard. After a while, Daniel pulled back, then kissed him again, just little soft pecks, two or three, and then he leaned all the way back and Jack knew Daniel was looking at him, so he opened his eyes and looked, too.

That same loving, incredulous, tousled, delighted look he'd last seen in his own bedroom in Colorado. Jack tightened his hand on Daniel's neck and grinned. Daniel closed his eyes again, his expression changing from happy to something more inward. And Daniel didn't let go of his face. He closed his eyes and leaned in again, and this time he opened his mouth. They both had to be dizzy, after a few seconds of this, Jack thought distractedly. Careful and deep and wet. More like sex than like anything Jack would previously have defined as kissing. It was intoxicating. They took turns pushing inside. Jack thought about how it had felt in bed, in the winter -- letting Daniel inside of him. It made him even harder. Daniel's tongue pressed lazily, firmly, against his. Jack leaned, giving Daniel some of his weight, and let the arm he had wrapped at Daniel's waist slide lower. He wormed his fingers into the back pocket of Daniel's Levi's, and clutched at the big warm muscle under the pocket. Daniel pressed closer. Very hard now. And definitely dizzy.

Daniel broke the kiss, scraping Jack's cheek with his glasses, and Jack had verification that Daniel was a little overwhelmed, too, because he didn't seem to notice he'd done it. He rested his mouth on Jack's shoulder. Jack closed his eyes and let his breathing slow.

He became aware of his surroundings again -- the slightly burnt smell of coffee, the familiar mustiness of ancient upholstery, the sharp oily tang of the oranges he'd let spill onto the kitchen table from their sack.

"Wow," Daniel said, his voice a warm buzz against Jack's neck. Jack sighed with delight, pulled his hand slowly from Daniel's pocket, and stepped back.

"You ready for some lunch?" he said. Daniel looked at him, suppressing a grin, but the suppression did nothing to cloud the happiness in his face. Jack reached up slowly and pushed his glasses back into place again. Daniel's grin broke through, then, despite his efforts to keep it restrained.

"I guess it is lunchtime," he said.

They made sandwiches, and cracked open two beers, and ate on the porch in the Adirondack chairs, pulling chips from a torn-open bag teetering in the breeze. They set their beers next to the chips bag on the little battered table between them. The woods began, green and gold and humming with crickets, just a few yards on the other side of the muddy drive. Jack had mowed the strip of grass between the drive and the house the day after he'd arrived. It would need mowing again shortly. You could still see the outline of the flower bed that his mother had made, by burying red bricks on their edges in an untidy rectangle. Nothing had grown in it but grass for a long time, but the old weathered bricks were still there, flush with the turf so it would be easy to trim around them.

After he finished his sandwich, Daniel got up and went in the house and wordlessly brought back two more Mooseheads, one of his books, and the crossword page from Sunday's Minneapolis Star-Tribune that Jack had left half-finished on the bedside table, along with his reading glasses. Daniel brought the glasses, too.

Jack leaned back in his chair and stretched out his legs. He looked at his woods for a while, drank half of his second beer, and then smoothed the newspaper on his knee. He put on his glasses and finished the crossword. He only asked Daniel one clue, more to hear his voice fall into the warm air again than because he needed the help.

When he finished the crossword, he put the pencil in his pocket and the newspaper under the Ruffles bag. He glanced at Daniel. His book was open on the armrest of his chair, but Daniel was staring into the woods. He looked content.

Jack said, "Can we go in to bed now?" His voice felt rough, and too loud in the stillness. He wasn't used to having company here, but this didn't feel like company.

Daniel tilted his head like an inquiring bird, not quite a startle, but a quick little movement. "Okay, this is a trend, now. Always sex right after lunch?"

"Why mess with success," Jack said. They were grinning at each other again.

They gathered up their plates and the chip sack and the bottles, and their book and newspaper. They put away the mayonnaise and mustard and the deli turkey and the bag of lettuce and the heel of the tomato. Jack snagged a cold bottle of water from the fridge.

Daniel had preceded him into the little front bedroom Jack always used, and he was standing by the bed. He'd put his glasses on the nightstand. Jack came up beside him, moving quietly, and put the water on the table by Daniel's glasses, next to the new tube of lube. New except for the one handful Jack had squeezed out of it, four nights ago, lying on his back, thinking, as always, about Daniel. He'd laughed at himself, trolling through the grocery story on his first trip over there after he'd arrived. There the long, utilitarian box had lain, in the bottom of his cart, next to the Vitamin C and the Claritin and the coffee filters. And Jack had laughed at how ordinary it was, how he hadn't boggled at buying it, and how the checker hadn't either. It made him feel like a teenager, and yet at the same time, it was the most reasonable, routine thing in the world. Like buying condoms, back when he was married, when Charlie was a baby. Before Sara'd gone back on the pill. Just something you needed for your life.

Daniel was standing there, looking at the tube that had been in that box, and Jack knew he was remembering their one day together, last winter. He tugged gently at Daniel's shoulder and turned him. He put his hands at the hem of Daniel's T-shirt and, not hurrying, pulled it up. Daniel raised his arms and let Jack strip the shirt off. Jack turned and tossed it on the chair against the wall. He let his gaze linger on Daniel's abs, on his navel, as he undid Daniel's old leather belt and popped the snap of his jeans. He tugged down the zipper, a soft rasp. He pushed his thumbs into the waistbands of both the jeans and the blue plaid boxers, right in the hollow just in front of Daniel's hipbones. He went down on the good knee, following his hands all the way, until the denim was crumpled around Daniel's shins. He held each leg of the jeans in turn, letting Daniel pull his feet free and step out of them.

Daniel's hands were at his jaw again, and then in his hair, stroking fondly. Jack, still kneeling, raised his eyes. Daniel was looking down at him, looking serious around the mouth, and joyful around the eyes. He was totally absorbed in Jack. It made Jack smile, just a little, and he knew he was smiling because Daniel smiled back. He let go of the jeans, just leaving them there, half under the bed, and Daniel kept stroking his hair. Now he looked more thoughtful than joyful. Jack waited. He could smell Daniel's groin now, the rich clean private scent of him, and he thought about how Daniel's dick would feel in his mouth, how it would feel to collect a drop or two of liquid, tasting it as he'd tasted Daniel's kisses. Daniel was hard. Jack was looking at his face, but he could see Daniel's erection, blurry and very close. He'd only have to turn his head and lean and open his mouth a little, and it would be happening.

Daniel was breathing a little harder, and a flush was starting in his cheeks. He shook his head -- amazement or incredulity -- and put one hand on Jack's shoulder. He trailed the fingers of his other hand across Jack's cheek, inviting but not insisting. Jack smiled, and reached for Daniel's hips, the beautiful dip that swelled into his glutes, there under Jack's fingertips, and let the tip of Daniel's cock part his lips. Daniel gasped. He leaned more weight onto Jack's shoulders.

Jack slid as much of the warm thick length into his mouth as he could, for a first try, then pulled back, and moved one hand to hold the base. He licked his lips, and said, "Warn me if you get too close to the edge, because I'm gonna be greedy today -- after this I want you in me again."

"Christ," Daniel said, and his hands tightened. Jack pushed his mouth around Daniel's dick, and closed his eyes. He rounded his lips around the firm shaft and sucked. Daniel shook, and groaned, and his hands tightened on Jack's shoulders. Jack opened his mouth a little and pressed up with his tongue, tilting his head back, feeling the head of Daniel's dick rub across the roof of his mouth. He tried to keep his bottom teeth from digging in too much, but it was a hard thing to manage. Daniel didn't seem to mind. Jack played with the angles a little, running his tongue over the ridges, getting blissed out at the way Daniel filled his mouth. He sucked again.

"Okay, stop," Daniel said, and Jack smiled, ready to comply, but he couldn't resist sucking his way off, leaving Daniel's dick wet and gleaming with his spit when he released it. He tilted his head forward, resting it against Daniel's groin, letting Daniel's dick rest against his cheek. Daniel shuffled back the half-step it took to let him sit heavily on the bed, his hands still in Jack's hair. Jack grabbed the edge of the mattress and surged up beside him, turning to sit as he did.

His turn to take Daniel's face between careful hands, and kiss him. He could taste the lingering sharpness of the little bit of pre-come he'd gotten, but it probably wasn't enough for Daniel to taste, too.

Jack kissed him deeply, slowly. Daniel held on to him, and Jack leaned them both back onto the bedspread. Jack felt the golden green calm of the woods sinking into him, the listening, benevolent silence all around them. It was a peaceful kind of happy, like being alone here, only better. Like time had no meaning. He held Daniel close.

"That okay with you, doing me again? Because we can--"

Daniel just kissed him again, kissed him and held him close and pressed his pelvis to Jack's.

Jack figured that meant "yes."

After a little he sat up, watching Daniel lie there, his eyes glittering, his lips wet, and he shucked his clothes as quickly as he could. Daniel pulled him close, and maneuvered them around so that they were lying mostly on the bed, maybe a little on the diagonal. It didn't matter. He had his arms around Daniel, his mouth sealed to Daniel. Nothing but skin, nothing between them now, and Jack still wanted to get closer. He remembered how that felt, and he wanted it, urgently, intently. Daniel was over him, their groins still together, but Daniel was pressing up on his palms, like that yoga thing Janet had made him do for his back, years ago, the cobra thing, and Daniel was dipping his head to keep kissing Jack. His legs were tangled with Jack's. Daniel's eyes were closed. He was probably the most beautiful thing Jack had ever seen; certainly the most beautiful thing he'd seen for the last decade.

Daniel mumbled something against his mouth, trying and failing to speak between kisses. Jack ran his hands along Daniel's warm, firm back, figuring Daniel would try again in a second. He did.

"Like this... face to face. Think it'll work like this?"

Jack put one hand on the back of Daniel's head, still kissing, and nodded. Daniel got his knees under him -- again Jack had that stab of envy for the shape the guy was still in -- and reached for the lube, and a pillow. Jack waited, planting his feet on the bed on either side of Daniel, watching Daniel's face, gripping Daniel's thigh.

Daniel, flushed and so serious, arranged the pillow under Jack's hips, then slid his slick fingers along Jack's ass, all the while watching Jack's face.

Jack groaned and closed his eyes and writhed a little as Daniel penetrated him, and he squeezed Daniel's leg, hard. He'd learned how to ride these sensations by masturbating; he'd lost interest in casual sex with a partner years ago, but he'd never given up on touching himself to relax, for comfort, even just for cheap entertainment. But this was different by several orders of magnitude. Feeling Daniel make love to him this way was one of the most intense, important things that had ever happened to him.

He'd replayed that day, their first encounter, in his memory many, many times, pondering how that had felt -- Daniel coming inside him, joining him like that. And now, here they were again. Jack didn't open his eyes as his body fell down through the warm depths, the stages of relaxation and arousal, getting ready to open to Daniel's dick again. He could smell Daniel, feel him over all his skin. Like he'd said to Daniel that day in the hallway -- he didn't have to see Daniel to know it was him. Daniel was part of him, always. And now, part of him, literally.

Unselfconscious, simply responding and reacting, Jack let himself moan, and speak Daniel's name, and rock his hips against Daniel's fingers, his dick bouncing gently against his belly, until Daniel took his hand away and reached for more lube. Eyes still closed, Jack stroked the wiry invisible fair hair on Daniel's thigh, and waited.

Rustling slurping noises, a click, and Daniel bent over him and threaded his arms under Jack's knees.

"This always works in the movies," Daniel murmured, and Jack smiled. He found Daniel's slick shaft and did the aiming, while Daniel leaned.

Same feeling of fusion, of oneness. It was almost too much. All those clichés about one's better half, soulmate, the missing piece of one's heart. He'd never make fun of that idea again.

He swallowed, and groaned. Daniel was poised, careful, tense. Jack knew it would be reassuring for Daniel if he could talk Daniel through this, so he did.

"Good, it's good. Keep pushing, it's good. Don't stop..."

"Jack.... Jack...."

The stretch in his thighs, in his ass, was sublime. All his molecules wanted this, wanted to receive Daniel like this, enfold him.

"So good," Daniel said, and Jack rested his heels on Daniel's back and rocked with him. The pillow under his hips was a nice touch. Have to remember that. Daniel's breath was hot on his shoulder, Daniel was all around him, in him. Daniel was all he knew.

He must have come first, achieving some kind of momentary white-cloud-filled nirvana, because he was slippery and then sticky and his dick was softening, squeezed a little to the side between their stomachs, sweetly stimulated even after his orgasm by the push and slide of Daniel's thrusts. Daniel had changed his rhythm, Jack dimly understood, while Jack was coming, pressing in as much as he could, waiting it out. Now he was pushing in and out again, harder, his breaths ragged gasps, and it was exquisite, perfect, too much in a new and different way, feeling Daniel move inside him in his post-orgasmic arousal, as Daniel's own climax built and built and then detonated. Daniel filled him.

"Jack," Daniel said again, the word choked and half formed in his throat, more groan than name, as Daniel shot inside him. Jack tightened his arms and legs around him, and turned his head to press a kiss to Daniel's neck. Close enough, finally. This was close enough. This was heaven, the only heaven Jack would ever wish for.

They were quiet for a long time, as quiet and yet as fully, completely alive as the quiet forest. Jack wasn't sure human flesh was intended to feel this much. At least not without dissolving into pure energy -- something else he was content to let Daniel be the expert on. And a train of thought he had no intention of pursuing today.

Jack noticed they were breathing together. He smiled a little, still holding Daniel close. Finally Daniel groaned and shifted and got one arm out from under Jack's knee. He was still half hard inside Jack; the continued stretching and penetration felt wonderful. Jack didn't loosen his arms while Daniel got comfortable and sighed to signal his comfort.

"C'n fall asleep, this time," Daniel murmured, his breath tickling Jack's ear.

"No argument here." Jack continued to hold him tight, despite the spreading, rippling lethargy in his body, the ebb tide of intense pleasure. Daniel must have missed some sleep last night, and his flight had to have been way early. Daniel was sleepy now, but Jack was not. Strange. He felt Daniel drop off, then, his muscles going slack, all the heavy weight of him now bearing Jack into the mattress.

Minutes went by, long contented minutes, rippling patiently like the languid movements of trout, suspended, aimless, in cool summer water. Finally Jack felt Daniel slowly, slowly soften and slip out. Jack would be sore, later, like he'd been sore after Daniel had done this before. It would be something to welcome and to savor, like the kissing in the kitchen had been, earlier.

He held Daniel's generous weight against him for nearly half an hour, and then Daniel twitched and snorted. He woke, and turned his head and leaned on an elbow and started talking, like he was coming into consciousness from dreams without a break, like he was carrying on a conversation he'd started in his head even before he fell asleep. Jack had seen Daniel do this before, but it was always a little weird. Actually, come to think of it, it was also kind of sweet, knowing that Daniel apparently talked to Jack inside his own head like that. Then the subject matter of what Daniel was talking about got through Jack's orgasm hangover, and he stopped petting Daniel's back and just rested his hand there, and listened.

"I saw them together, when I was at the Pentagon," Daniel was saying. "This week. I'd just stopped in to say hello to Paul Davis, not an official meeting at all, but they were just leaving his office. He must be the liaison with the defense satellite people now, too. We didn't have a chance to talk about that.. but... Anyway, they were leaving, carrying briefcases, and they had a couple of secretaries or assistants, walking behind them. I was too surprised to say anything at first, but I saw the… my…"

Jack wasn't surprised at the stutter. He wouldn't know how to describe his clone if he met him again, either. If he had to point him out to someone. He resumed petting Daniel's back. His weight, his scent, his skin -- he wanted to keep feeling this, all afternoon. He kept listening.

"He, just for a second, he, Daniel Ballard, put his hand on … his Jack's neck, and Daniel stepped a little in front of him. As if he was trying to protect the other Jack from having to see me, or deal with me."

Daniel shook his head a little, remembering. It was a warm scrape of stubble against Jack's shoulder. "I didn't know what to say, if I should say anything. Their staff kind of hovered, like they didn't know what was up. They must have… I mean, the resemblance is unmistakable, at least to me. Maybe because I still have glasses and he doesn't... Anyway. After a minute, he let go of … Jack" (again the little hitch in the rich, expository voice), "and he came up to me and he just, stared. For a second. I just stood there. He must have gotten the laser surgery, or perhaps contacts. I don't know... " Daniel was up on one elbow now, sliding a little to one side, warming to his story. He was looking at the headboard, but Jack knew he didn't see it. He was seeing a bland Pentagon hallway, and something totally impossible unfolding in it. A science fiction drama on industrial blue carpet.

Daniel continued, "He said, 'It's fine,' and then he kind of smiled and said, 'Really.' And all I knew to do was nod and say, 'Us, too,' and then he ducked his head, and… Do I still do that?"

"Oh, yes," Jack said, petting Daniel's ribs. He turned his head and kissed Daniel's jaw, just one little reassurance, not interrupting. Then he settled his head back against the pillow.

"And he went back to the group and they went on, down the hall. He didn't look back. Jack did, but he didn't." Daniel sighed. Jack held him closer. They were quiet.

"You were right to send Sam and not us, to that first meeting," Daniel said, finally.

"I know," Jack said, and opened his mouth against the warm salty skin of Daniel's shoulder, the yellow afternoon light slanting toward them, through the little uncurtained window.

finis


End file.
